New Orleans
The New Orleans we visited twice was a world unto itself, a world not quite like any other. The air was more humid, the sounds more musical and the people more alive. There was a sense of ease, open-armed welcome and joyous celebration everywhere. On our first trip to New Orleans, we fell madly in love—with a city of energy and joy—a 24-hour-a-day festival of spirit, music and people. The Muses seem to dwell in New Orleans. They have touched a thousand shoulders and whistled in artists, writers and musicians. Each street corner was a stage for someone with a microphone, an instrument and a song. Sophisticated jazz, raucous Zydeco and a hundred melodious southern accents were the rhythm and song of New Orleans. For us, every corner and every plaza held photographs. Our eyes never rested. Everywhere was so much life, so much history, so much joy. Everywhere were the faces of New Orleans—eccentric, exuberant, expressive.
Each time we left New Orleans, we made plans to return. We could never have imagined that the New Orleans we visited: a city with history, style, a sound of its own and a jambalaya of people, would not be there the next time. We could never have imagined a New Orleans of quiet, of sadness, of despair.
These few photographs are a simple tribute to a city we love and its people for whom our hearts are broken.
Click on any of the small photos at right to see it in a larger size.
Each time we left New Orleans, we made plans to return. We could never have imagined that the New Orleans we visited: a city with history, style, a sound of its own and a jambalaya of people, would not be there the next time. We could never have imagined a New Orleans of quiet, of sadness, of despair.
These few photographs are a simple tribute to a city we love and its people for whom our hearts are broken.
Click on any of the small photos at right to see it in a larger size.